CHAPTER IX--CHURL AND OVERLORD
'Twas a year and more after the overthrow of the Monkslayer in BlackpoolForest and the killing or scattering of most of his band that my father,the Lord of Mountjoy, with my lady mother and myself and Cedric theForester, now my accredited squire, sat one day in the hall of Mountjoytalking of the news that had that day come in. There had been, itseemed, a most desperate and bloody revolt of the churls on the lands ofSir Hugh DeLancey, some ten leagues to the south of us. A hundred ormore of the peasantry with some apprentices and hangers-on at thevillage, armed with axes, clubs and scythes, had taken the manor bysurprise in the night, killed Sir Hugh and half a dozen of his men inthe hall, driven out the lady, then sacked the place and burnt it to theground.
We were fair horror-struck at such lawless and brutal doings; and for atime we vied with one another in calling vengeance down on the leadersof that guilty crew and in plans for assisting in their punishment. Butin the midst of this an archer came from the courtyard with the wordthat one of Sir Hugh's men-at-arms, who had been wounded in theonslaught, had managed to get him to horse and away after the death ofhis master, and was even now at the gate asking the hospitality ofMountjoy. My father at once gave orders for his welcome; and soon theman, who, after all, had escaped with wounds of no great moment, wassitting at our board with meat and drink before him. When his hunger andthirst were abated, he told us the tale of the churls' revolt in asomewhat different seeming.
Sir Hugh DeLancey, though a loyal follower of the King, a resolutepunisher of outlawry, and oft a comrade of my father's at the jousts andin the battle line, had been a hard master to all his men in kitchen andhall and a heavy-handed overlord to the peasantry about him. Many a onehad muttered curses after him when his back was turned; but he was everquick with riding whip, or oaken cudgel at need, so that almost nonedared gainsay him. Now it seemed that but the day before he had sent hissteward to the cottage of Oswald, a farmer of his demesne, to say thatOswald was to make ready to receive for the night two of the grooms ofLord Westerby who were to accompany their master on a two-days' deerhunt in Sir Hugh's forests. By ill hap it chanced that Dame Margery,Oswald's wife, was ill-a-bed at the time, and appeared to be nigh untoher death; and Oswald sent back the word to his master that on thisaccount he could not receive the two men that were to be quartered onhim. The steward, however, held an old grudge against Oswald; and so,returning to his master, spoke but the half of Oswald's answer, sayingonly that the farmer refused to have the grooms in his cottage.
When Sir Hugh heard this, he flew into a rage, called for his horse androde to Oswald's door, followed at a little distance by this retainerwho now told us the tale. Arrived before the cottage door, he drew hissword, and, taking it by the blade, pounded with might and main with thebutt on the panel. Oswald came forth, and, angered by this unseemlynoise at the door of what would soon be a house of mourning, spokeroughly to his liege lord, requesting him to withdraw and leave thedying in peace.
Sir Hugh's own choler was so high that 'tis doubtful if he sensed themeaning of Oswald's words, for he answered with a command to throw thedoor wide, as he would take the cot forthwith to stable his horsewithin, and it should be seen who was master on the lands of DeLancey.Oswald stood immovable, and as the knight advanced on him laid hold of afirewood stick to dispute his way. At this Sir Hugh struck right madlywith the weapon which he still held by the blade. By a most unhappychance the broadsword hilt came down, full force, upon the farmer'stemple, and in an instant he was stretched dead at the feet of hismaster. Then Sir Hugh took horse again and rode back to the manor.
Poor Dame Margery set up a piteous outcry, and soon there came two orthree of the neighbor folk who heard her broken tale of the encounter.Ere night the bitter news was on every tongue within miles of DeLanceyManor; and when at dark the word went round that Margery had died also,a vengeful band soon formed itself, and those bloody deeds were done ofwhich the earlier news had come to us.
Scarce had the DeLancey man finished his tale and been taken to hislodging where the leech should tend his hurts when a messenger rode upto our court-yard gate and demanded admittance in the name of the LordHigh Constable. He brought us the news that the Constable was already inthe saddle and with half a hundred lances at his back was riding toDeLancey Manor for the quelling of the mutiny and the punishment of SirHugh's murderers. It seemed, however, that the Lord Constable had noarchers with him and feared they might be sorely needed in the fightingto come. Therefore he asked of Lord Mountjoy that he send with themessenger half a dozen mounted cross-bow men,--men who could strike afair target at two hundred paces; and he promised to reward bountifullyany such who should do the Crown good service.
At this Lord Mountjoy turned to Cedric, saying:
"Now here's the chance, Cedric, my lad, for thee to earn both gold andhonor. Wilt thou pick five more Mountjoy cross-bow men and ride withthem 'neath the Constable's banner?"
But with a countenance of a sudden grown something pale, Cedric madereply:
"Good my lord, I pray you lay not your commands upon me to that effect.This expedition likes me not."
"How now!" exclaimed my father, "this is a new temper for thee, Cedric.Thou'rt ever ready to be where shafts and quarrels fly. Surely thou'rtnot frighted of peasants' clubs and scythes."
"Nay, my lord. But for this fighting I have indeed no stomach, and 'tislike I should make but a poor soldier in the Constable's train. I prayyou, if Mountjoy must furnish archers for this work, let some other leadthem."
My father's face grew very red. He leaned far over the table towardCedric, and seemed about to speak full loud and angrily. Then bethinkinghimself, he turned again to the Constable's messenger, and said:
"Return thou to the Lord Constable with Mountjoy's compliments; and saythat within the half hour six good cross-bow men will set forth fromhere, and will o'ertake him on the road long before he reaches DeLanceyManor."
The messenger bowed and withdrew. Soon we heard his horse's hoofs on thedrawbridge. Then Lord Mountjoy sent for one of the older of the Mountjoyarchers from the court-yard below, and gave to him the commission justrefused by my obstinate squire. This accomplished he turned again toCedric, with a heavy frown on his brow, and said:
"Now tell us, if thou wilt, sirrah, why this sudden showing of the whitefeather. 'Tis not like thee, I'll be bound, to shrink from any fray,whether with knight or clown, or to shame me as thou hast before theConstable's messenger. What terrifies thee now in the thought of thisrabble?"
"I have no fright of them, my lord. Rather I wist not to have any handin their punishment for a deed which, lawless though it be, still hadthe sorest provoking."
Lord Mountjoy gazed at the youth in amazement. My mother and I caughtour breaths and one or the other of us would have interposed a word toblunt the edge of such wild-flung talk; but my father burst out again,and in a voice that echoed through the house:
"And would'st thou then let the murderers of my friend go free ofpunishment for that he had struck down a churl that refused him entranceto a house on his own domain?"
"The man did but defend his right," returned the Forester, steadily."The house was his, against all comers, e'en his liege lord, till he hadbeen duly dispossessed."
Such rebel doctrine had ne'er before been heard in Mountjoy Hall. 'Twaslittle wonder that my father's face grew purple with wrath as heshouted:
"And where gettest thou such Jack Clown law as that? Is it from thebooks of chronicles thou hast learned to pore over by the hour, or fromthe monks at Kirkwald that lend them to thee?"
"Nay, my lord, 'tis from the ancient Saxon law that ne'er hath beenabrogated in England, though many a time o'erridden. 'A freeman's houseis his sole domain though it be no more than a forester's cot.'"
Lord Mountjoy had risen and now stamped back and forth.
"Ne'er abrogated, forsooth! But it well should be. This is no law orcustom for the descendants of the nobles that landed with William theConqueror. 'Tis of a piece
with the insolence of the churls on Grimsby'slands, who would have a magistrate of their own choosing forsooth, totry their causes withal--reaching up to snatch the reins of governingfrom their lawful masters. What do such clowns know of law or governing?When did ever such make shift to guide or protect a state?"
"Those same chronicles, my lord, of which you spoke but now, tell us ofa republic of Rome, where commoners ruled the city, and that that citygrew so great in power as to rule half the world and more."
My father gazed grimly at the youth who dared thus to question hiswisdom; but for the moment he had naught to say, and Lady Mountjoyseized the chance to exclaim:
"Oh! in those chronicles there is a bonny tale of the saving of the cityby the voice of geese. I will fetch them and read it you."
Lord Mountjoy, not thus to be put aside, made an impatient gesture, andwas about to take up again the argument when a knock was heard on thedoor of the hall, and a maid announced that Old Marvin, the archer,craved speech with Lord Mountjoy. Glad enough was I to see him admitted,for this quarrel that had flamed up so suddenly between my father and myfriend and squire was a bitter thing to me and to my lady mother. Morethan once had Cedric saved my life in battle and skirmish; and LordMountjoy himself had stood forth as his champion when King Henrycondemned Cedric to be hanged for the killing in fair fight of youngLionel of Carleton. Of all the Mountjoy retainers, Cedric had thesteadiest hand and the clearest head. I had often prophesied that unlessI rose in honors and preferment faster than I could rightly expect, Ishould not long be able to retain such a youth as a simple squire. Butnow I seemed like to lose him before ever my spurs had been won and heto part from us in bitterness.
As Cedric was the most valued among the younger retainers of our house,so was old Marvin, the cross-bow man, among the elders who had followedfirst my grandfather, then my father to the wars. His wondrous skillwith his weapon had done yeoman service on many a field, and finally hadstruck down the old Gray Wolf, Lord Carleton in the midst of thedesperate assault he made on the walls of Mountjoy. For two years nowMarvin and his good wife had enjoyed the cottage and six acres of theMillfield, where we hoped he might have many years of peace as somemeasure of requital for a lifetime of toil and danger. 'Twas not likelythat Lord Mountjoy, in the angry mood of the moment, would have admittedany other of his followers; but Marvin was a man of honor and privilegein Mountjoy Hall.
As soon as Marvin had entered, my mother rose and, calling Cedric toher, found some duty upon which to employ him, so that he left the hall,and was seen no more till late at night. Meanwhile the old archer hadexplained to us that a message had just come to him from his brother whowas a forester on the lands of Lord Morton, a day's journey to thenorth. Marvin had not seen his brother for twenty years; and when lastthey parted it was in some coldness; but now the other, who was a fewyears older than Marvin, was lying sick in his cottage at Morton, andasked his brother to come to him that they might be reconciled ere hedied. He offered, if Marvin would come and stay with him to the end, tosettle upon him as his heir any goods or savings he might have. Marvinnow craved leave to join a merchants' caravan which was just settingforth in that direction, that he might comply with his brother's lastrequest.
On hearing Marvin through, my father instantly gave his leave, andordered furthermore that a good horse from the Mountjoy stables beplaced at his disposal. Thereupon our faithful old retainer bade us ahasty good-by, for the caravan was already on the road; and we wishedhim a safe return.
My mother and I did hope and plan that Lord Mountjoy might easily forgetthe dispute he had with Cedric; and to that end found means to keepCedric busily employed through the following morning; and at the middaymeal did turn the talk toward the great tournament that was soon to beheld at Shrewsbury. But some Imp of Mischief had his way at last, for atmid-afternoon my father entered the hall and found Cedric by thefireside, deep in the great book of chronicles. This was enough to bringto mind the heresies that Cedric had found therein; and in a moment allthe anger of the day before flamed up again. Soon Lord Mountjoy wasshouting in his wrath, declaring that the nation went to the dogs wherecurs and clowns were not duly subject to their lawful masters, and thatif Cedric would mend his fortunes, he must first cast out such follyfrom his mind. Cedric replied, in lower tones indeed, but by no meansmeekly, upholding what he called the rights of English freemen tohousehold and to peaceable assembly and to trial, when accused, byjuries of their peers. At last my father checked his speaking, and saidslowly and in cold anger:
"I tell thee, sirrah, thou'lt mend thy clownish ways of thinking ifthou'rt to remain in Mountjoy Hall. We'll have no rebel firebrands--noale-house ranters with their crazy mouthings,--stirring up our yeomanrythrough thee. While I hold the fee of Mountjoy, every man-jack in cot orin castle must be a loyal subject of the King and of his liege lord."
At this my squire made a low bow and said:
"I thank you then, my lord, for all your kindness, and will sayfarewell. I can say naught but the truth for either friend or foe."
"Cedric!" cried my mother, "thou canst not mean it. Think what Mountjoymeans to thy fortunes; and think again of the good-will we all bearthee. Say to Lord Mountjoy that those were but thoughtless words, and beour man again."
Cedric shook his head, but trusted not his voice to speak. Thereat myfather drew from his pouch a purse of gold and offered him.
"Thou hast given the Mountjoy right loyal service. Take this in token."
But Cedric again shook his head.
"Nay, my lord, such service as I gave was not for gold, and I cannotreceive it. With your leave, I will take the steed that was theCarleton's, and since called mine, and ride away from Mountjoy where mywords and thoughts are dangerous."
More talk there was and further urgings from my mother and from me; butCedric's will remained unmoved. Lord Mountjoy paced back and forthbefore the hearth with hands clasped behind his back and with a deeplyfurrowed brow. The Forester bowed low again and left the hall; and soonthereafter we heard the tramp of his horse on the drawbridge. Then Itook me to the battlements and watched my loyal squire and comrade tillhis figure grew dim and disappeared on the road that lay to the southand east, toward London town.
Three mournful days went by. Word came that the peasantry of DeLanceyManor had been herded up by the Constable and his lancers, and that twoof the ringleaders had been hanged. Although my father gave themessenger who brought this news a broad piece of gold, it seemed tobring him but little cheer to know that the slayers of his friend hadmet their punishment. There was but little talk in Mountjoy Hall; therain fell dismally without; the days were dark and cold; and e'en ourgood log fire seemed powerless to brighten them.
Then came, hard riding, a messenger from the Lord of Morton. He bore aletter from his lordship to my father; and filled it was with direfulnews. Old Marvin of Mountjoy had been sorely wounded at Morton in somefray for which Lord Morton blamed no other than his own son, who, itseems, had perished in the fighting. Lord Morton wrote in noble fashionof his grief that our retainer should have come to harm through any ofhis house, and said that Marvin had the best of care at Morton, andthat, so soon as he should be sufficiently recovered, he should be borneto Mountjoy in a litter, and that all of the goods of his brother whohad lately died should be honorably bestowed upon him.
The letter was brief withal; and when my father had finished reading itto us we yet remained sore puzzled at this happening. We turned again tothe old serving man who had brought the message, and him Lord Mountjoyquestioned sharply:
"Know'st thou aught of this affair, my man, save what is set forth inthis letter?"
"Aye, my lord," he answered heavily, "much of this sad work I saw. 'Twasan ill time indeed, for my Lord of Morton is far gone in years, and nowthis misfortune hath robbed him of his only son and heir."
"Tell us of it, I pray thee," said my father, eagerly, "if so be thoucanst do so with full loyalty to thy house."
"Nay. My Lord Morton conceals naught. It was
Sir Boris, his son, thatwas to blame, and he denies it not. Lord Morton is an upright man and ajust; but for years he hath tried in vain to curb the wildness of youngSir Boris. Drink and dice have been the young lord's ruin as of many abetter man before. Only a fortnight since, Lord Morton forbade him, onpain of his worst displeasure, to bring any dice, those tools of theDevil, into Morton Hall. More than that, he drove from the very door twoof the young bloods from Shrewsbury who had been the young lord's booncompanions in drinking and gaming."
"But how did this touch our Marvin? He was not lodged in Morton Hall, Itrow."
"Nay, my lord. Marvin came three days ago to the cottage in Morton Woodwhere his brother, the forester, lay in his last illness. 'Twas none toosoon, i' faith, for hardly more than a day later, Old Gilbert breathedhis last. That was toward sundown; and Marvin, who had been joined bysome stranger lad, prepared to spend one more night in the cottage tolook after his brother's body, which they planned to bury on the morrow.This I knew, for my Lord Morton had sent me there for word of theforester; and I brought back the news to the Hall.
"A little later I had commands from young Sir Boris to join him in hishunting lodge in the wood, for that he should meet some friends there inthe evening, and I should wait on them with food and drink. I well knewthat this was but a trick to set at naught the orders of my Lord Morton;and now I have sorrow that I did not instantly acquaint him with it. ButSir Boris was a willful man and very ill to oppose; so I obeyed him,thinking that 'twas better there should be at the lodge one man at leastof sober head than that the party should be served by some of our youngkitchen knaves who think of naught themselves but drink and lawlessliving.
"But alas! that night's revel was far worse than ever I had thought.There was young Damian of Lancaster, Sir Henry Walcott and Guy DeMontalvan--roistering and dissolute blades all of them--and two or threemore whose names I knew not. I had brought a fair venison pasty to thelodge; but for this they nothing cared. 'Twas the love of drink andgaming that brought them there; and the fires were scarce lighted andthe table spread ere they had broached a cask of wine and the dice wererattling on the boards. Their gaming soon was fast and furious; and thestakes grew ever higher. Young Boris at first won nearly every cast,till his pouch was bulging with gold pieces; but by ten o' the clock hisluck had turned and he lost and lost. All his winnings went, then allthe gold he had or could borrow. Next he wagered the suit of armor whichhad been his father's gift when he was knighted, then the great whitehorse which bore him in the tourney. In another hour all of these werelost and young Guy de Montalvan was richer far than e'er he haddeserved. By now all of them were much the worse for wine; and when SirBoris wished to continue the play when he had naught more to wager, theydisputed him with oaths.
"Then my young master bethought him for a space whilst the others playedon regardless. At last he burst out with a shout:
"'I know the whereabouts of gold that is of right the Morton's. Gilbert,the old churl who was our forester, hath died this day. At his cot hehad, I doubt not, store of gold pieces which my father and I have givenhim from time to time. Now I have need of them, and will proceed to takewhat is mine own. Who follows me?'
"There were shouts and laughter at this and clapping of hands. Sir Borisstarted up and, sword in hand, ran out the door. Then before I could sayor do aught to stay them, the whole rioting crew had seized cloaks andweapons and were streaming forth into the forest on the way to Gilbert'scottage. I left the lodge and ran with all my might along the path tothe castle to arouse Lord Morton. But 'twas half a mile and more, andwhen I reached there my master was deep in sleep. He roused him up atonce, and soon, with half a dozen stout men-at-arms at his back, wasrunning through the wood to put a stop to those mad doings.
"But alackaday! he was too late to do aught but view the scene of ruinand dishonor to his house and to gather up the bodies of the slain andthose who lay in wounds and blood. The rest of the tale I had from oldMarvin himself as I tended him but yesterday; and piteous it was, notfor him only, who will recover of his hurts, but for all of us who lovethe name and fame of Morton.
"'Twas near midnight when he and the stranger youth who were lying onthe floor, covered with their cloaks were roused by blows of sword hiltsthat rang upon the door and by shouts and drunken yells. The body of oldGilbert lay upon the bed; and doubtless this din and cursing at such atime struck horribly on Marvin's ears.
"'Who art thou, and what wilt thou have?' he shouted.
"'Sir Boris of Morton,' came the answer, 'get up, thou churl and openthe door.'
"'Not for thee nor any man in such guise as this. Know'st thou not thatGilbert, the forester, lieth dead here? Go thy ways, I pray thee, andleave this house in peace.'
"But at this there were more yells and calls and louder smiting on thedoor. Then spake the stranger youth:
"'Go thy ways, whoe'er ye be. We be two armed men, and will suffer noneto enter here this night.'"
"Well and bravely spoken!" exclaimed my father, "'twas a well-bornyouth, I warrant thee."
"Nay," answered the old servant, "he wore the hodden gray. But gentle orsimple, he soon was forced to make good his words or swallow them, formy young master and his crew withdrew them for a brief space, then camerushing all together, bearing a huge log which they employed for abattering ram. At the very first thrust, it broke down the cottage doorwith a horrid crash. Then those that bore it instantly drew swords andponiards and essayed to enter in its wake.
"Old Marvin, it seemed, had his cross-bow ready drawn; and he shot youngMontalvan through the face at the first onslaught. The stranger youthfought with broadsword, and well and truly too. He had at first somevantage in the shadow in which he stood; but soon the rioters were allaround him. He felled one of them with his very first stroke; but thenSir Boris came opposite him, striking and cursing like a madman. Marvinwas overthrown and sorely wounded, and still the youth fought on, besetby four of his enemies at once. In a moment he had thrust Sir Borisclean through the body, and an instant after, fell, wounded to thedeath."
_OLD MARVIN HAD HIS CROSS-BOW READY DRAWN, AND HE SHOTYOUNG MONTALVAN THROUGH THE FACE AT THE VERY FIRST ONSET_]
"Oh! By all the Saints!" cried Lord Mountjoy, "in hodden gray, say'stthou? I warrant 'twas a disguise, and that he was of noble strain. Hecould not have better died had he been a Huntingdon or a Montmorency."
During this recital my mother's face had grown white as wax. Now sheasked in halting whispers, midst gasps for breath that came near tobeing sobs:
"Had'st thou--no word--of his name and degree?"
"Nay, my lady," replied the old servant, "save that Marvin seemed toknow him and called him Cedric."
"Cedric!" cried my mother and I at once, while my father turned deadlypale and sat down heavily on a bench near by.
"Cedric!" I shouted again, "'tis Cedric of Mountjoy,--none other."
Then my father found voice. 'Twas a low, weak tone--one scarce to beheard indeed:
"This is a judgment on me for my hardness. Cedric was right indeed. Isee it clearly now that 'tis our own old Marvin whose rights weretrampled on by those who called him churl and varlet. And what a battlethe lad did make! And how he fell--like a prince of the blood beset byruffians! Oh! Did he live to speak any words of farewell--to leave anymessage with Marvin or any other?"
"I know not, my lord," replied the old serving man, "when I left MortonHall this morning, 'twas said that he still breathed, but that he couldscarcely last the day."
My father started up and gave a furious pull to the bell cord. Theclangor thus provoked sent the chief of our serving men hurrying in.
"Tell the grooms to saddle Caesar," shouted Lord Mountjoy, "and callBroderick and say that he and six armed and mounted men are to attendme. I ride at once to Morton."
"And I also," I cried, "Galvin, tell the grooms to make ready the blackmare that I rode yesterday."
"And my horse also," shrilled my mother, the instant I was done. "I,too, will ride to Morton."
'Twas fifteen leagues to Morton Hall; and much of the road was rough andwild, with many a stony hill to climb and many a stream to ford. Thehalf of the journey we made by the light of the great round harvest moonthat sent its silvered rays near level through the forest. Hard we rode,indeed, and with little mercy on our mounts; and 'twas scarce four hoursafter we left Mountjoy when, piloted by the old Morton serving man, wedismounted before the door of Gilbert's cottage.
_HARD WE RODE, INDEED, AND WITH LITTLE MERCY ON OURMOUNTS_]
Praise be to the saints! We were not too late, for Cedric lay within,still breathing, though with closed eyes and with face of deathlypaleness. Old Marvin lay on another couch hard by; and a leech and anursing woman from Morton Hall were with them.
Marvin greeted us gladly, and seemed not surprised at our coming. Hisvoice roused Cedric; and he looked upon us with knowing eyes and weaklyuttered words of welcome. Lord Mountjoy knelt on the ground at his side,and clasped his hand.
"Cedric," he whispered, painfully, "canst thou forgive me my words ofharshness and my driving thee forth from thy home?"
Then a smile of great content o'erspread my comrade's face; his eyesgrew brighter, and a faintly ruddy color came to his cheeks.
"Lord Mountjoy," he said, and his voice was far stronger than before, "Ifreely forgive you for any trifling slights you have offered. I prayyou, make not too much of them."
"Thou wert right, after all," went on Lord Mountjoy, "in holding to therights thy fathers had of old. I should well have known thou wert toostaunch ever to be a breeder of trouble in the house of thy friends. Nowwould I give the half of my lands to have thee back, well and sound, atMountjoy Hall."
Then Cedric smiled again, now broadly as of old.
"No such price as that shall you pay, my lord, for somewhat which shallbe granted without price whatsoever. I have two deep wounds, forsooth,but little thought of dying. The good leech here knows not of thestrength that a plain-living forester can muster when his friends comeall these leagues to bid him be of good cheer. I will ride again beneaththe Mountjoy banner, my lord, and that before the spring."
At that all three of us that had before knelt dry-eyed before his couch,began weeping copiously for very joy, and Old Marvin, from his bedoffered up a prayer of thanksgiving. The leech now came forward, andclosely noting the change in Cedric's face, added his assurance to thestricken youth's own testimony. Two hours later we came softly from thecottage where both our faithful men lay soundly sleeping. Into theforest the leech followed us to say that now the worst was past, andthat he doubted not their full recovery.
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